


The Osiris Club

by negansdirtygirl22



Category: Hellboy (2019), Hellboy - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Multiple Orgasms, Pancakes, Rough Sex, Stripping, Tail Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 16:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19949218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/negansdirtygirl22/pseuds/negansdirtygirl22
Summary: You’re the top dancer at the best strip joint Jersey has to offer— The Osiris Club. Sure, it’s grimey as hell, but it’s worth it whenever your favorite client comes in for a good time.





	The Osiris Club

**Author's Note:**

> IT’S FINALLY DONE! I’m so fucking happy I was able to finish this fic, and just in time for the dvd release! I really hope you guys like it and that I did HB justice. Feedback is gold so don’t forget to drop me a line and some kudos, bb’s!

It was a slow night at the club, Tuesday’s just didn’t draw the same clientele that the weekends did. No, Tuesday’s were more of the B crowd. The few scattered seats that were taken sat every strippers worst nightmare. You know, seedy types that only came in to get away from their overbearing wives, ate their weight in greasy bar food, and tipped like shit— always stinking up the place with their cheap cologne and tacky suits. You weren’t really sure what you expected out of a sleazy little strip joint in Jersey. It wasn’t exactly a high-end kind of place that attracted deep minds with deeper pockets. You mainly stuck around for the other girls who had become like sisters to you. That, and for the off chance you’d get to see your favorite and most elusive client— Big Red. 

Hidden behind the shimmery curtain, you watched as Ginger finished her burlesque act. It was a stunning performance that mostly went unnoticed by the neanderthals in the audience, too busy stuffing their faces to look up. You honestly wondered why they didn’t just go to some cheap buffet to eat instead of a titty bar. Bunch of greasy losers didn’t deserve her talent or her titties. 

Most of the other girls were out mingling with the cretins, leaving you to get ready in an empty dressing room. The big bucks were in lap dances, so the girls really laid it on thick, hoping to make some extra cash. You were strapping on your platforms when Ginger walked backstage looking irritated and severely unpaid.

“Ging! You fucking killed out there,” you cheered, hoping to draw her out of her funk. 

She tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes to slits, giving you an unconvinced glare. “Sure, if by killed you mean killed their boners,” she scoffed, crossing her arms as she plopped down onto the couch.

“Maybe you should go out there dressed like a chicken wing next time. Bet that’d get them rock hard,” you chuckled under your breath, yelping when Ginger suddenly smacked your arm and started laughing with you. 

“Oh fuck you, bitch.”

“Love you too, Ging.”

You checked yourself out in the mirror, giving your hair and tits an enthusiastic zhush before heading out on stage. Even if this wasn’t your preferred crowd, you still had a reputation to uphold as The Osiris’ top dancer. 

Ginger came up from behind, playfully twirling a lock of your hair between her well manicured fingers and whispered in your ear. 

“You know, Hellboy is here tonight.” Her mischievous eyes looked into yours through the vanity’s illuminated reflection. You looked away, nervously rubbing your hands together, finding they were already clammy with anticipation. Shit shit shit, he’s here, you panicked, not having expected anyone worthwhile to walk through the doors, least of all HIM. 

“Please welcome to the main stage, Angel!!”

You put on your game face, silenced your neurotic thoughts, and reminded yourself with confidence that he was out there waiting to see you. Only you— his coveted Angel. The opening chords to The Cult’s Fire Woman echoed through the club as you walked on stage, ready to give him the best damn show of his life. 

Wound up, can’t sleep, can’t do anything right, little honey  
Oh, since I set my eyes one you  
I tell you the truth 

The stage lights bathed you in an ethereal red glow as you sauntered down the runway, losing your marabou robe along the way. You twirled around the shiny chrome, undulating your hips to the hypnotic rhythm of the song. 

Twistin’ like a flame in a slow dance, baby  
You’re driving me crazy  
Come on, little honey, come on now

With one arm held above your head and your back pressed firmly against the cool metal of the pole, you let yourself sink down, inch by torturous inch until you met the floor in a jaw-dropping split. Suddenly all eyes were on you and you couldn’t help but grin, knowing you had them eating of the palm of your hand. You got on all fours and crawled across the stage like a cat on the prowl, making sure to dip your spine to better accentuate the enticing curves of your ass. Looking up after a rather dramatic hair flip, your eyes zeroed in on the bright cherry glowing at the back of the room. Plumes of thick smoke covered his face but you knew it’s was him— his imposing outline was unmistakable. Unforgettable. You could feel his hellfire stare on you, your skin tingling from the smoldering heat coming off his gaze. 

Fire, smoke she is a rising  
Fire, yeah smoke on the horizon

He watched you with bated breath, completely mesmerized by the patterns your fingers traced along your serpentine body. Watching greedily as they traveled up your torso and chest, stopping to fondle the two most heavenly tits he’d ever laid eyes on. He wished they were his hands that were groping you, feeling every inch of your body beneath his calloused fingers, but he would content himself with watching for now. 

You took your sweet time with the thin straps of your top, sliding them down your shoulders, one after the other. Unhooking your top was always saved for last, and even then you didn’t rush it— savoring every drawn out moment, squeezing your tits together to tease him one last time. You didn’t have to see his face to know exactly what it did to him, after making you wait so long to come back it felt like sweet retribution. Your tantalizing pace made the pay off that much sweeter when you finally let your breasts spring free from your top, gifting him a visual feast for the eyes. 

The boorish men in the crowd all cheered, but Big Red showed no emotion, puffing away at his Cuban with his hungry eyes glued on you. There was a power in knowing he was watching you so intensely, making everyone else in the room disappear. It became a private dance, a tribute for his eyes only. You began touching yourself, your lips parting, tongue darting out ever so slightly as you mimicked the memory of his flesh hand roaming over the swells of your body. The sinful grin that graced your face matched the snarled expression on his. 

Fire woman, you're to blame

You climbed the vertical pole, excited for your favorite part of the performance. You gave it your all, spinning and sliding, letting your head fall back with every erotic revolution. A sea of dollar bills covered the stage as the song came to an end and you slowly descended the pole one last time, legs split and ass high in the air in a glorious display. 

You happened to glance over your shoulder as you walked offstage, your eyes scanning around the club for Hellboy until they finally found him sitting at the bar with a stiff drink and his cigar safely nestled between his lips. It had been over six months since you’d last seen him— his line of work didn’t exactly make it easy for him to pop in any old time. You both understood that, with much reluctance. Part of you hated him every time he left, knowing there was never a promise of when he’d return to you, if at all. The uncertainty killed you, but you were in full bloom every time he walked through the doors and back into your arms for another fleeting tryst. 

He sat in suspense, leg bouncing anxiously up and down, waiting for you to come find him. After all, that was his favorite part of the fantasy—feeling desired— and with you it never felt contrived. You were always so warm and genuine around him. So exquisitely beautiful that he found himself having to look away, questioning his worthiness of your time and attention. You never had to fake your interest in Red when it was so brutally real. The line between client and dancer blurring into obscurity, lost and forgotten in the passionate moments you shared in the club’s private rooms. He was worth every broken rule while he was there and every broken heart when he left. 

When you finally reemerged, you were dressed in a red fishnet bodysuit, a skimpy thong and nothing else. His leg suddenly stopped bouncing as you approached him in what felt like slow motion. You called yourself Angel, an interesting choice when you looked more like sin incarnate. 

“Hey big boy, enjoy the show?” you purred, coming to stand between his thick legs, your fingers reaching out to him like a magnet, grazing over his sculpted deltoids and landing on his impressive pecs. 

His eyes shamelessly ogled your body up and down, thoroughly enjoying the way your nipples peeked through the constricting fishnet material—the color of your outfit not lost on him. His ego swelled knowing that you had chosen it intentionally with him in mind. 

“I did and I’m enjoying this look too. Red looks good on you,” he winked, playfully snapping the material against you skin to emphasize his point. 

“Mmm it certainly does,” you leaned in closer, stealing his cigar. 

He was silent as your lips pressed against the very spot his had been moments before. You inhaled the rich tobacco, letting the smoke billow around you in dreamy plumes. 

“Red just feels... so good all over my body. Know what I mean?”

Your hands felt his responding groan rumble through his chest, the gentle vibration prickling against your palms. He drained his glass with an almost predatory stare that made you go weak in the knees.

“This one’s new,” you lilted, running a curious finger over the newest scar on his face. 

He leaned into your soft touch, remembering how much he loved being doted on by you. 

“Oh that one? Got it in a bar fight in Tijuana...” Red went on, telling you in sensational detail of how he’d wrestled a chupacabra into submission, making sure to emphasize his more heroic moments in the fight. 

You listened intently, beaming up at him as he spoke excitedly of his time in Mexico. Your hands mindlessly roaming his body, fingers splaying across his massive chest and arms, as if guided by muscle memory. You loved how broad and firm he felt, how small he made you feel. Even with your ridiculous stripper heels on, you were still nowhere near his height. 

Your gentle caresses caused his tail to perk up and coil it’s way around your ankle, the searing heat of it surprising you at first. He suddenly stopped talking and you both looked at each other expectantly, the mood shifting once again. It was technically considered a bad touch by the club’s standards, but none of Red’s touches were ever bad to you, so you allowed it. Your body thrummed with desire as his tail climbed higher and higher, curling around your inner thigh, the tip of it ghosting over the front of your thong. You were grateful that his imposing silhouette hid the frowned upon debauchery happening just out of view as you stood between his parted legs, pressed chest to chest.

“Careful, Big Red. Don’t get too carried away now,” you discreetly warned him, not wanting to alert the club’s bouncers. To anyone walking by it would simply appear as though the two of you were just talking, but part of you still feared the consequences of getting caught.

“Where’s the fun in that,” he chuckled smugly, not overly concerned with your warning. Not when he was so busy reducing you to a mess with his tail between your legs.

“Red...” was all you could rasp back in response, finding yourself flushed and out of breath. 

He growled at the sound of his name leaving your lips, having missed it more than he’d expected. 

“Say it again,” he commanded, dragging his devilish appendage against your cunt with enough friction to make you jolt forward, repeating the motion again and again until your hips were grinding along with him. 

You licked your parched lips and clung to his muscular forearms for dear life, already feeling like your body was combusting into flames. “Red... wanna take this somewhere a little more private?” 

His tail slowly began to recede, giving your ass a playful smack on its way out. 

“You read my mind, doll.”

There was something different in his demeanor this time around, something less timid and more brazen in the way he spoke and touched you. You couldn’t deny how much it excited you, how wet it was making you to see him assert such control and taunt the rules. 

You stepped away from Red and up to your least favorite bartender who huffed at the inconvenience of your presence— god forbid he actually have to do his job.

“Joey, can you please let this fine gentleman and myself into one of the rooms?” 

He rolled his eyes at your request, not even bothering to look up from his magazine and Hellboy immediately took notice. You could see him fuming from across the bar, his chest puffing out, jaw clenched in anger. Rising to his full stature, he approached this “Joey” person himself, smacking the magazine right out of his hands. 

“You fucking heard her,” he bellowed, temper flaring as he struggled to refrain from absolutely pummeling the cowering man. 

One look at Hellboy and the bartender didn’t have to be told twice as he fumbled with the keys, letting you into the biggest private room The Osiris Club offered. You had the biggest shit-eating grin on your face as you instructed Red to have a seat while you locked the door. You’d never found the whole knight in shining armor thing to be sexy, at least not until you’d seen it in action. Witnessing Red defend your honor so fiercely was about the sexiest thing you’d ever seen, and that was saying a lot considering your profession. 

“You know, I wasn’t expecting you tonight,” you cooed, sauntering over to the velveteen couch where he sat, his beefy thighs spread invitingly. The steady bass of the music set the tempo for every languid stride you took as you approached him. 

“It’s been so long, I was starting to think you forgot about me.” You bit your lip, looking at him with a doe-eyed expression to match your pitiful statement. 

“Not possible, babe,” he answered with a furrowed brow, feeling a pang of guilt for his absence. “I would have come back sooner—I mean I wanted to but—“ 

“I know, and it’s okay. I’m just glad my big strong hero is here now,” you spoke so sweetly, stroking his ego and his chin as you took your place, straddling his lap. “I missed you,” you confessed, affectionately brushing your nose against his. 

Red sat back, looking all too cocky at hearing that you’d missed him. “That right? And just how much did you miss me?” 

“Well let’s see,” you grinned, more than happy to humor him. “I missed seeing your handsome face waiting for me at the bar,” your hips began to rise and fall, steadily grinding against the sinewy surface beneath you. 

Your arms immediately went to work, peeling off his heavy coat and shirt to reveal the bulky mass of muscle underneath. His rippled body was covered in an assortment of scars, all of which had unworldly stories behind them. You traced your fingers along the ridges of some of the newer ones, feeling his muscles jump— the time away had made him so starved for your touch. He’d especially missed the way you worshiped his body, taking your time to relearn every inch of him like you were committing it to memory. 

“I missed you putting your hands all over me.” 

His sharp intake of breath was felt when you placed both his hands on your ass, urging him to do with you as he pleased. His left hand roughly kneading your supple flesh, while his heavy stone hand guided your hips movements, pushing you down harder on his straining cock. The intoxicating friction had you both panting, wanting to take more from each other. To cut the bullshit illusion that this wasn’t more than just two strangers and a business transaction. 

“Missed the way you hold me in your arms like you never want to let me go.” 

You inched your face closer to his, your lips pursed and ghosting over his. You wanted to crash you mouth down on his, devour him— mind, body, and soul— but you held back, not yet ready to loose your last shred of self control. 

“Missed the way you look at me like I’m god’s most beautiful creation when you’re buried deep inside me.” 

Your voice was coming out in ragged moans, matching Red’s low growls as he held you firmly to his lap. You were so needy, your cunt pulsing, desperately needing him to fill you to the hilt. His grip on you tightened as his hands migrated up to your waist, his own desperation getting the best of him, almost at its breaking point. 

“I missed you so much over the last six months, Red. Thought I’d go crazy if I didn’t see you again,” you whimpered, stopping your fervid gyrating for a minute to sincerely look into his golden eyes. 

He gazed up at you in awe, his gorgeous Angel. The immense relief he felt knowing that you were as invested in him as he was in you. That it wasn’t some elaborate act— you really did care and want him. He felt a warmth bloom in his chest at the idea of you pining over him while he was away all that time, wondering how many men you turned down waiting for him and only him. 

Enough was enough. He’d waited what felt like lifetimes to see you again and was not willing to wait another second. Without warning he pulled you down by the nape and kissed you with a ferocity you felt all the way down in your toes. You flung your arms over his shoulders, fingers entangling themselves in his dark tresses, tugging slightly at the base of his skull. His head fell back, lips detaching from yours in a brief reprieve for oxygen, both of you looking at the other with lust-blown eyes.

“Looks like someone missed me too,” you smirked, cocking your eyebrow mischievously. 

“You have no fucking idea, babe,” he mumbled with his mouth latched onto your neck, tongue lapping at your quickening pulse. 

“Prove it,” you breathily commanded. 

He snarled at your challenge, wanting nothing more than to flip you over and fuck you hard against the couch. To satiate the bestial urges that bubbled dangerously close to the surface. He knew you could take it— hell, it was probably what you wanted him to do— but he was in the mood for something else entirely. 

He pulled away from you so suddenly, his eyes flickering between your bodysuit and your eyes. 

“You, uh, attached to this thing much?” He asked, running a stone finger down the front of it, from your collar to your navel.

“I have others,” you stated, keeping a cool tone despite feeling like you were about to spontaneously combust. 

“Good.” 

Gripping a handful of red fishnet between both hands, he yanked hard, tearing the flimsy garment right down the middle. He ran his hand down his scruffy face, proudly marveling at his work. Your tits fully exposed, loose fringe from where the fabric had been torn clinging to your balmy skin. The only thing in his way now was your thong and you were not about to let him rip that to shreds too. 

“Don’t even think about it, big boy. I happen to be quite fond of this one.” Your sassy remark was met with a rumbling chuckle.

You rose to stand on the couch, one heel braced on either side of Red, your pussy and his face at eye level. Looking down at him, you slipped off the ruined bodysuit, chucking it on the floor. Your hips swayed to the soft music, feeling his hands snaking up your legs, stopping at the hem of your soaked panties. His fiery eyes looked into yours for permission, which you granted with a nod. He gently worked the thong down your thighs, careful to not damage it, per your request. You pulled one leg out at a time, holding onto his head for balance until you were completely bare, hovering above him. 

“Goddamn, baby. Don’t you look lovely,” he mused, letting his hands freely roam your body, going wherever they pleased. His mouth peppering your tummy and hips with kisses, looking up to see your very pleased expression when he delivered a lingering kiss over your glistening folds. 

“Have a seat, gorgeous,” he beckoned, pulling you down to straddle his face, his fingernails making crescent indents on your ass from the firmness of his grasp on you. 

He lapped at your dripping cunt like there wasn’t enough of you to satisfy his hunger, savoring your taste and the sweet sounds you made for him. Your hips rolled against his face, feeling the burn from his facial hair against your inner thighs, your hands holding firm to his stubbed horns for leverage as every inch of your body became consumed in pleasure. God, it had been months since you’d felt anything remotely close, the last person to give it to you that good was him. Not even your own hands or the myriad of toys you owned were able to replicate the delicious feeling of his mouth on you. 

He growled against your sensitive flesh, sucking your swollen bud between his lips, your hips bucking at the sharp stimulation. Suddenly you jolted at the feeling of something new prodding at your entrance— and it wasn’t his fingers. His devious tail had found its way between your thighs, the girth of it enough to send you soaring higher with each shallow fuck into you. 

“Red, don’t stop,” you repeated like a prayer as he delivered you closer to nirvana. 

Your hips began to falter as the overwhelming magnitude of your orgasm hit you all at once. It was almost painful, your nerve endings pushed to their full potential, the sensation leaving you raw and somehow numb at the same time— a transcendent experience you’d never tire of and always crave for. 

Hellboy was relentless, ravaging you like an animal starved, completely lost to his primal instincts. He growled, holding you up by the ass so he could drink every last drop you gave him, like sweet nectar from a chalice. It was only when you cried out for him to stop that he lifted his head in time to see a single tear fall down your flushed face. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

Slowly, he brought you back down onto his lap where you collapsed like a pile of jello, exhaustion creeping it’s way through your body. 

“Hey, sleepyhead, you still alive?” 

He playfully poked at your sides, checking your wilted state for any signs of life. You writhed and giggled after every relentless poke— he knew damn well how ticklish you were. 

“No more! No more, Red!” 

Your cries for mercy only encouraged him to tickle you more aggressively, pinning you to the couch beneath him so he had the upper hand. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, can’t hear ya,” he replied, smug as ever.

That was it, you couldn’t take it anymore. You reached between you and gripped his solid cock through his pants. His hands abruptly stopped their torture, his eyes wide and face turned to stone as he looked down at you with a betrayed expression. 

“You don’t play fair, baby.” 

He bowed his head with a heavy groan at the feeling of your lithe hand palming him, his hair cascading down his furrowed face. 

“Shut up and kiss me,” you blurted, your second wind sweeping over you with reckless abandon at the sights and sounds of him unraveling under your touch. 

He gave you exactly what you wanted, kissing you with everything he had and nothing less. Your frenzied hands worked his pants down his legs and he kicked them the rest of the way off with the same intensity, the lingering taste of your release on his tongue sparking something feral within you. You needed him with the same vitality that you needed air to breathe, the delirium making you feel like you might die without him.

“You ready for me, gorgeous?” His voice, thick with lust, broke through your haze. 

You could only muster a nod in response, too far gone at that point for words. 

An almost pained expression washed over his features when he lined himself up to your entrance. A sign that he wanted this as much as you did, that his body yearned for you as badly as yours did for him. You anchored your legs around his abdomen, encouraging him to take the leap— to give into what you both needed so desperately. 

You were no stranger to the pain that came with accommodating his size but it still managed to take your breath away each time like it was the first. He moved with such gentle reverence, suppressing the demonic part of himself that wanted to completely defile you, keeping it at bay with the last bit of control he had left in him. 

“I can take it,” you urged, arching up so your nipples brushed deliciously against the battle-toughened skin on his chest, stoking the already raging fire inside you. 

He looked down at you warily, unsure of what he’d just heard you say, his body taught and muscles bulging from the tension he was holding in. 

Sensing his apprehension, you decided to give him one final nudge.

“Fuck me like you missed me.” 

Hellboy exhaled with a rumbling growl, his grip on you becoming more constricting and possessive. It was all the permission he needed to pull your knees up to you chest and thrust into you without mercy. He set a bruising pace, unleashing his full power and stamina onto your pliant body. Your moans grew louder, tits bouncing violently, as he shifted his angle to hit that elusive bundle of nerves only he could reach. The perfect curve of his cock brushed against your g-spot with every ruthless drive of his hips, making you cry out for him, for god, for more. 

“Did you miss me fucking you like this?” He snarled, pinning your hands above you head, the new leverage making it easier for his cock to impale you ever deeper. 

“Tell me how much you missed it,” he sternly demanded, his voice strained from his exertion. 

“I missed it so much,” you cried out, the waves of pleasure on the cusp of swallowing you whole. 

Hellboy felt your body’s call for release, the unmistakable flutter baring down on his cock like a vice, bringing him closer to his own end. He released his grip on your wrists, and pulled you up by the nape so you were face to face.

“Only I get to fuck you like this, you hear me? You’re mine.” 

You were absolutely done for, lost to the world, grasping to his strong shoulders as your body validated his claim on you. Violent waves of euphoria coursed through your veins, your pained cries of pleasure filling the stale room. 

He held your face in his flesh hand, beckoning you to look into his eyes as his hips began to sputter. 

“You are mine,” he heaved, his voice a strangled moan as he reached his own peak, cumming inside you. 

There was a peaceful silence between you as you both basked in the afterglow of your coupling. His massive body crushed you beneath it’s weight but you welcomed it, feeling protected and invincible in his arms. On second thought, you couldn’t breath.

“Hellboy, get off me,” you whined, out of breath after many unsuccessful attempts at prying him off you.

“Oh shit, my bad,” he chuckled, bringing you both up to a sitting position as fast as his groggy body would allow.

From your place on his lap, you had the perfect vantage point to gaze up at him in amazement. He really was beautiful, his hair all out of place, a glistening sheen coating his toned body. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch him, feeling your time together slowly begin to slip away. He leaned into you touch, holding you so close, you swore you felt him purr.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave again,” you whispered into his chest, hating how pathetically needy you sounded. 

His big fingers lifted your chin up to look into his gilded irises. 

“I’m not going anywhere for a while. I took an assignment in town, so you better get used to seeing this mug around, babe.” 

You yelped excitedly, pulling his face down to smother him in kisses. 

You kissed his cheeks, nose, forehead, and horns ten times over before you leaned in for the kiss he really wanted. Every kiss with Hellboy was electric, it didn’t matter how chaste or raunchy, he always kissed you like he meant it. You took your sweet time savoring each other, no longer feeling the burden of your time running out. Things quickly began to heat up again when a series of loud knocks brought you out of your trance, your body tensing up with the fear of getting caught. 

“Open the fuck up, Angel!” 

Hellboy looked at you protectively, waiting for you to say the word so he could kick some ass, but it never came. 

Truth was, you were done. Done with the assholes at the club, done with the shitty pay, done faking your interest in other men when you already had the only one you wanted. You had enough savings to get by for a few months so you really didn’t need this shithole anymore. 

“Get dressed, Red. We’re leaving,” you asserted, fishing your thong and his shirt out of the pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once you were both decent enough, you walked through the door, hand in hand, and right past your blue-in-the-face boss. He called you every name in the book, hurled threat after threat your way, before Big Red finally reached his limit and knocked him out in one swing. 

“That’ll teach ya,” he spat at the unconscious dirtbag. 

“Hellboy!” 

“What? I can’t have him talking about my girl like that!” 

His earlier words came to mind, making you smile at the memory. You were irrevocably his— always had been and always would be. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you lilted, squeezing his huge palm in yours. 

The night air was cold but ripe with opportunity, anything felt possible now that you were free from the club. Maybe you could get yourself a fancy new job at the bureau with Red, although the idea of you both working together seemed counterproductive— he’d never let you get anything done, not that you’d mind. 

A sudden pang of hunger reminded you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in hours and fucking Hellboy had only left you more famished.

You turned to him with playful smirk and a proposition. 

“I’m kinda hungry, wanna grab some food?”

“Fuck yeah, I’ll never turn down a meal. What were you thinking?”

“Pancakes?”

“Oh my god, I’m in love.”


End file.
